


The Sailor & The Man in the Mirror

by VoidGhost



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fantasy Racism, Kinda, M/M, Magic Mirrors, Pre-Relationship, Sailing, ive been writing this for a week straight just fckn take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidGhost/pseuds/VoidGhost
Summary: Fjord finds a magic mirror that holds a lot more than just a cat.Or,Frumpkin helps Fjord become 'less scary', and oh yeah, his owner's kinda cute.





	The Sailor & The Man in the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> this has been my on and off project for a week straight and im finally done so pls take it
> 
> im having some teeth taken out this week so no update on nott the goblin mom, all you get is this for now ;)
> 
> hope yall enjoy
> 
> (btw fjord is talking in his real accent this entire this kk)

The  _ Tide’s Breathe  _ bobbed in the water as crates and chests were loaded aboard the ship. Many of the chests were loaded with fine silks or strong weaponry, namely some crafted boom sticks that had become popular within the last couple decades and were freely marketed to neighboring continents. The dock along the coast of Tal’Dorei was small, smaller than the ones Fjord had gotten used to back at Wildemount. There was the lack of salt in the air and the faint rotting scent of the swamp only a stone’s throw away from their ship. It was a wonder that the water was still deep enough in this area. 

Workers of their contact here at the coast lugged the crates and locked chests aboard the main deck. Vandren took log of the supply in a leather bound notebook and half-hazardly tossed a silver to each worker. The three of them eagerly accepted the tip, but as they scampered off the ship, Fjord caught them eyeing him warily. One worker, a young human man, accidentally caught Fjord’s eye and quickened his pace. 

Fjord huffed. He does not miss Tal’Dorei. 

A hand on his shoulder made him jump. Turning, he stifled a groan. Sabien grinned cheekily at him, a single blonde lock hanging down his forehead that still somehow seemed to be exactly as he intended. 

“Gonna give us a hand, runt?” Sabien asked, his accent - not unlike Fjord’s - flowing smoothly across his tongue in a way that Fjord could never perfect. “Or let the big guys handle it?” 

He gave Fjord a rough smack on the back before kneeling aside the largest crate and effortlessly hefting it over his shoulder. He sent a wink Fjord’s way, the last nail in the coffin, and headed downstairs. 

Fjord’s crossed arms tightened until his blunted nails were digging into his skin. Tsui, the second strongest on their ship, picked up the other crate with ease. She looked after where Sabien disappeared, then back to Fjord. In her heavily accented, rough yet kind voice, she said, “He’s a dick.” She cocked him a grin with low, tired eyes. Then, she followed down below the deck. 

That left the chest unattended. The rest of the crew had already gone back to their positions, and Vandren had disappeared back into the Captain’s Quarters. Fjord stared at it, half waiting for someone else to come take it, half working up the courage to take it himself. After a staring contest that he’d never win, he cracked his knuckles, gripped the chest by its ornately carved handles, and  _ pulled _ . 

It ended up being lighter than Fjord expected. These chests tended to be filled with exotic goods to the point where not even Sabien could handle it himself. But this chest must only contain one or two items, at most. After dragging it across the deck to the staircase, Fjord gripped both handles and lifted it. 

Okay, it was still a bit much. But Fjord pushed on, taking the steps one at a time as he huffed through his nose, until he was finally below deck. 

The chest hit the ground with a loud  _ thud _ , but it seemed that Tsui had distracted Sabien to some other part of the ship. Fjord gripped the one handle and tugged the chest through the hallways until they were at the storage bay, where the two crates had already been pushed into a corner and forgotten. 

Fjord shoved the chest beside them, stood up and cracked his aching back. He thought about the cool winds above and was about to leave when he heard a muffled  _ mew _ . 

He paused and turned back to the room. He eyed the crates, the chest, and the other barrels they have down here for storage. He listened. Then, another faint  _ mew! _ . 

_ A cat?  _ Fjord scoffed. A stray must have wandered on board. Just the idea of it almost made him sneeze. 

“Uh, kitty-kitty?” He called, hoping his voice came across light and friendly. “Where are you?” He snapped his fingers a few times, hoping to get a reaction. 

His reaction was a louder, less cute,  _ mroooow _ . Muffled, but in the room. Fjord approached the crates and pressed an ear against one. He knocked on the wood. 

“ _ Mrrroow! _ ” 

That came from the chest. Now that Fjord was closer, he was sure of it. He knelt in front of the chest and slid his hands along the sides to give the top a tug. It caught. Sure enough, there was a big padlock on the front of the chest. 

“ _ MRROOOW!”  _

“Hang  _ on _ ,” Fjord said without realizing he was chastising a cat. “You’re locked in. Sit tight, I’ll get Vandren.”  _ Fucking cats _ . 

Vandren was still in his quarters pouring over the notebook when Fjord knocked on the open door frame. The human, skin now scarred with battles untold and thick from the sun, looked up with a hand running through his scraggly salt-and-pepper beard. In an accent that Fjord had not heard once in his life until meeting his captain, Vandren said, “Ah, Fjord. What brings you here?” 

Fjord took a deep breath. As of recently, the presence of his captain brought on a nervousness that he couldn’t quite place. There was a lot of things Fjord was unsure of, during his years as part of Vandren’s crew - but one thing he was completely certain of, is making sure he is the best for his Captain. 

He stood up straighter, puffing up his chest in a subtle way to seem more mature, more ‘filled out’, as he should be. “I believe a cat has made its way on board.” 

Vandren raised an eyebrow. “And that is my problem because….?” 

Fjord’s spine threatened to fold under the unimpressed stare of his captain, but he held strong. “It seems to have trapped itself inside one of the chests downstairs.” 

Vandren hummed and nodded. He took one last look over the journal on his desk before closing it, sliding the singular leather strap across it, and tucking it safely away in a locked desk drawer. On his desk was a glass jar of keys, and Vandren picked it up and opened it. 

“Which chest?” He asked. 

“The lightest one, with carved handles.” 

Vandren fished a hand down in the jar and sifted through keys until he seemed satisfied with one and pulled it out. He circled the desk and made a motion for Fjord to follow. 

Before he passed through the doorway, however, he set one hand on Fjord’s shoulder and spoke lowly in his ear. 

“Don’t try so hard. People will know you’re hiding something.” 

And with another pat on Fjord’s back, his posture finally gave up, along with his dignity. 

Hiding his shame, he followed Vandren down the steps into the storage. It was just his luck that they ran into Sabien and Tsui again at the base of the stairs. 

“Captain,” Tsui greeted, nodding amiably to the both of them. “Is there a problem?”

“Fjord was just telling me that there’s a cat trapped somewhere down here,” Vandren said.

Sabien laughed a scoff. “Are you sure it was a real cat or did someone not want to carry a chest down?”

Fjord scowled, but even as Vandren ignored him and moved past to the storage room, Tsui roughly nudged Sabien’s shoulder, who did not get the hint and shoved her back. 

Fjord followed Vandren into the storage room and watched as he knelt beside the only chest with ornately carved handles and slid the key into the padlock - it fell to the floor with a dull  _ clank _ .

The top opened easily once it was removed and Vandren took a moment to examine the box. As the seconds ticked by and no small animal made an escape, anxiety insistently pulled at Fjord’s gut. 

Vandren turned to look at him with one raised eyebrow, serious and unamused. 

Fjord took fast steps to the chest, stopping beside Vandren to look inside. It was almost empty, like he guessed, and inside sat a glossy mirror, oval-shaped with an intricate ivory frame. There was writing in a language he didn’t understand carved above the mirror. Aside from that singular object, there was no cat and nothing that could have made the noises he heard. 

“But I heard it,” He insisted. “It was meowing, it was trapped!” 

A booming laugh behind him made Fjord’s shoulders jerk up to his ears. 

“So he really  _ was _ lying!” Sabien crowed. “If you need help next time, runt, come and call one of us next time instead of complaining to the captain.” He laughed again, shooting Tsui a look as if expecting her to join in. She just rolled her eyes. 

“Sabien, if you haven’t noticed, the chest was already down here,” Vandren said, in a tired voice. “Now stop acting like you’re some impossible goliath and go help Bev in the kitchen.” 

Sabien’s haughty attitude crumpled at the idea of kitchen duty - the one position Fjord knew that Sabien considered a punishment - and slunked off down the hallway. But not before shooting Fjord a smug grin just as he went out of sight. 

“Anything I can do, Captain?” Tsui asked. 

“Check to see if Berti needs an assistant,” Vandren said, waving her out of the room. 

Tsui nodded. “Yessir.” Then she was turned and gone, upstairs to help their navigator. 

Steeling himself, Fjord held his hands behind his back and kept his chin up, prepared for a lecture or a warning or some sort of criticism. 

Instead, he found Vandren studying him. 

“You say you heard a cat? Honestly?”

Quietly, Fjord said, “Honestly, sir.” 

Vandren hummed. He tucked the key in his pocket and headed to the door, leaving Fjord standing there. “Keep an eye out for it. If it shows up again.” It was a flat admission, more of an order, but the important part was that Vandren  _ believed  _ him.

“Yessir!” 

“And lock up that chest, would you? I don’t trust some of our new hands.” 

And with that, Vandren was gone and back up above the deck. 

Fjord let out the breath he had been holding and nearly slumped over in relief. There was still irritation bubbling inside him, and he looked over inside the chest. Aside from the mirror, tilted on its side to fit inside the chest, there really was nothing else inside. He slid his hand along the sides to feel any holes, anywhere a cat might have slipped out from. There was nothing. 

“Stupid, fuckin--” He reeled back a foot to kick the chest, but he realized at the last second that this was an expensive chest with a probably more expensive mirror inside of it. Instead, he redirected his kick to the padlock. 

It was sent flying to the far corner, where Fjord remembered a moment too late that there was a hole in that corner that lead to the one bunk he wanted nothing to do with: Sabien’s.

“Fuck fuck fuck--” Fjord knelt at the hole and peered through it. It was dark, luckily, but was probably buried under some tools or clothes that Sabien left and would not see the light of day again.

He groaned to himself. There was no way he would ask Sabien to get the padlock, not after what he just witnessed. There was no point in asking for more heckling. Fjord turned to face the open chest, a new wave of anxiety rushing over him. He shut the lid, hoped none of their untrustworthy hands came down to look for loose goods, and pushed the chest until it was facing the corner.

_ Good enough _ . Problem momentarily solved, Fjord left the room and went up on deck, looking for some other work to do. 

-

He had mostly forgotten about the chest until around a week later. 

The clouds were dark and the ocean was rolling with the incoming storm. They were only three days away from Tal’Dorei after their second stop further along the coast, and no one was warned of the storm brewing over the horizon. 

Berti was struggling at the wheel of the ship as Vandren barked orders at the rest of them. The winds were picking up and most of their hands were ordered to stow the weaker sails until they were on calmer water. Fjord, along with two other hands, were sent below deck to secure their cargo. 

Sora and Soren, the elf twins and two new hires that Vandren despised, disappeared together as soon as they were down the stairs. Fjord trusted that they were handling themselves - hoping no goods come up missing - and hurried to the first room he came across. 

He strapped down the crates and made sure their valuables were still in tact, before he came across the same chest that gave him trouble so long ago. It must have gotten tossed at the beginning of the storm; it had tipped over at some point and since it was never locked, the lid was flung open. 

Fjord cursed under his breath and slid to his knees beside the chest. Picking it up, his stomach dropped as he realized the mirror was gone. 

He was about to yell for the twins, ask them,  _ demand _ them, where the mirror was, when he saw the shine of the silver back of the mirror tossed a few feet away, previously hidden behind a crate. 

Fjord let out a relieved breath and sprinted to the mirror. He reached a hand down to pick it up and put it back where it rightfully belonged--

“ _ HEY!” _

Fjord gasped a breath and dropped the mirror, watching it land on its frame and bounce back onto its front. The silver backing shook as Fjord heard an odd thudding noise coming from the mirror - the same place where he heard that disembodied voice. 

Fjord looked around the storage area, half-expecting the twins to be playing a prank on him, half-expecting Sabien to have snuck up on him and snitch to Vandren that he never locked the chest. 

But there was no one was around. The twins were likely securing their food supply and kitchen essentials. He was left alone to their cargo. 

There was still that insistent thudding below the mirror, but Fjord hesitated to pick it up. His mind jumped to the impossible, and he had not been exposed to many magical artifacts in his entire life nor knew much about arcana at all. 

Still, either he fixes this or someone else does and finds out about his mistakes. Bracing himself, Fjord knelt down and picked up the mirror. 

The moment the mirror was exposed to the faint candlelight flickering on the wall, there was an accented voice that broke out in the room: 

“ _ Bitte _ , don’t break the glass!” 

Fjord nearly dropped the mirror again, but froze at the image he saw. From shoulders up, there was the image of a man with scraggly ginger hair and piercing eyes as deep as the ocean, dirty hands pressed against the glass and the burn of arcane energy bubbling just on the other side.

There was a long crack across the mirror that Fjord doesn’t remember seeing there the first time. 

“What the fuck,” Fjord asked the man in the mirror. 

“ _ Ja _ , ‘what the fuck’,” The man mimicked. “My mirror’s  _ cracked _ .” 

“I mean  _ what the fuck _ ,” Fjord repeated, stunned and suddenly irritated by this mysterious man’s attitude. “Is there a man in this mirror?”

“It was an accident,” The man said, nonchalant. “Just, gods, don’t let it break anymore.” There was a touch of panic to the man’s voice that made Fjord pause and look around the room again. It was still empty and quiet, aside from the muffled noises above. 

“Alright,” Fjord said. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating. He put the mirror back into the chest and began to shut it. 

“Wait!” The man called out again. 

Fjord paused. “What?”

“I, uh.” The man sounded sheepish to admit this. “I haven’t talked to anyone since…trapping myself in here. Will you come back?” 

Fjord was already planning on coming back later and making sure he wasn’t going insane. Still, he said, “Sure.” 

The man didn’t say anything else as Fjord shut the chest and strapped it down with the rest of the cargo, and as he met back up with the twins on deck, the incident was out of mind. 

But not really.

-

He tried to stay away, convince himself that it was an hallucination or he got briefly knocked out downstairs by moving cargo. But he couldn’t convince himself to not check, just in case. 

He waited until the rest of the crew had settled in their bunks, made some excuse of taking a leak above and slipped inside the storage room. The chest was still strapped to the same place Fjord had left it, and he only hesitated a second before undoing the straps and lifting the lid. 

The mirror was still there, and the long crack across its surface remained, but there was no image of a scraggly man inside. No, there was just Fjord’s own reflection, the sight of a stunted sun-worn half-orc who doesn’t look like a human and doesn’t look like an orc. He jerked out of sight. 

For a moment, Fjord was relieved - even if he had to admit that he hallucinated the whole thing, it was better than a man possibly being trapped inside a mirror - but he was struck with fear once the realization of the crack set in. He was in charge of pushing this chest down the stairs, it was his fault that he lost the padlock and the chest couldn’t be locked - it was going to be his ass that pays when whatever buyer comes for it and blows their top at a damaged good. 

He lifted a hand to run along the crack and gauge how deep it was - maybe he could cover it up - when his hand’s reflection in the mirror wavered and disappeared; replaced by the familiar sight of the man, his own hands pressing against the glass. 

“You came back,” He said, and now that Fjord was paying attention, the mirror gave his voice a tinny quality, like spoken from an echo chamber. 

“Had to be sure I didn’t make this up,” Fjord replied. He had questions, now that his suspicions were confirmed. He propped the mirror up in the chest so it was right side up. Fjord sat across from it and leaned back on his hands, staring in bewilderment at this talking mirror. 

“I heard a few names while I was down here,” The man said. “But I assume you are not Sabien or the Captain?”

Fjord huffed a laugh. “No. Fjord.” 

“Fjord,” The man repeated, drawing out the otherwise silent ‘j’. “I am Caleb Widogast.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Fjord said, out of politeness. “How did you get trapped in a mirror?”

Caleb sighed, apparently expecting the question but still floundering to answer. His fingers tapped on the glass with a dull  _ tap-tap-tap _ as he put his words together. “I was running from some people. Back in the Empire. I found this mirror stowed away. The runes here--” Caleb used a hand to gesture to the unrecognizable language carved above his head. “--spoke of protection. I foolishly understood it as a  _ place _ of protection, like this mirror acted as some sort of portal. But I was wrong. It must actually be used as a trap for harmful beings to  _ protect  _ others.” 

“And you trapped yourself,” Fjord finished the story. 

“And I trapped myself,” Caleb repeated, voice quiet. 

“You said the Empire,” Fjord continued, searching through what he knew about it. The term wasn’t unfamiliar to him, but it wasn’t where he grew up, either. “That’s in Wildemount.” 

“It is.” 

“A merchant was selling you--” Fjord coughed and corrected himself, “Selling this mirror in Tal’Dorei. We make our rounds at the coast and then head back to Port Damali.” 

Caleb went quiet for a long minute. He had a knuckle pressed against his lips, his eyebrows pinched together, worried. “I…suppose that’s possible. When I got trapped, I think I was knocked out for a while. My magical powers were dampened. Still are. But when I woke up, I was locked in this chest and moved about for as long as I can remember.” He looked up at Fjord, eyes wide. “Who am I being sold to?”

Fjord opened his mouth to answer but came up blank. Vandren didn’t keep their vendors a secret, but he didn’t actively tell their crew, either. He would have to ask their Captain. 

“I don’t know,” He said. “But I can find out.” 

“Please,” Caleb said, appearing unnaturally vulnerable behind the glass. “And don’t tell anyone about me.  _ Bitte _ .” After a pause, he added, “I’m desperate enough to trust you. For now.” 

Fjord nodded. He wasn’t sure anyone would believe him if he told them, anyway. “I lost the padlock for the chest. I can’t guarantee someone won’t find you.” 

Caleb hummed. After a moment, he snapped his fingers. “My cat will just keep a lookout.” 

On cue, an orange cat with bright yellow eyes that seemed far too intelligent for a cat, appeared from behind the chest. It sat down beside the mirror and cocked its head at Fjord. 

“So there  _ was  _ a cat,” Fjord said in wonder. 

“ _ Ja _ . This is Frumpkin. He’ll make sure no one discovers me.” 

Frumpkin softly mewed and rubbed up against the corner of the chest, sending cat hair floating in the air. Fjord muffled a sneeze into his elbow. 

“Allergic, sorry,” He said, taking a step back from the cat. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Frumpkin cast Fjord a look before hopping into the chest and disappearing from sight. 

“If you don’t want anyone to discover you, why did your cat start acting up that day?” Fjord asked, eyeing the chest where the cat disappeared. 

Caleb slunked further down in the mirror, sheepish. “I, ah. You see, I’ve been hiding here for…around a year, now. And I’ve had no one but Frumpkin. When I heard you, alone, in here, I thought I’d try to get your attention. I didn’t know you couldn’t open the chest.” 

Fjord couldn’t help a small smile. Inwardly, he was glad. He couldn’t imagine what Sabien might do if he had found Caleb instead. “Okay. I’ll keep your secret.” 

“And find the buyer,” Caleb added. 

“Of course.” Fjord yawned and stood up. It was much later than he intended. 

“I suppose you wish to go off to bed,” Caleb said, and Fjord couldn’t tell if he was disappointed by that. “You will come back?” 

“Yeah, sure. Whenever I find that buyer.” He lifted the mirror and set it back inside the chest properly, which Fjord was relieved to find devoid of any feline presences. Caleb watched him from the awkward sideways angle. 

“Goodnight, Fjord.” 

Fjord paused just before closing the chest. The man must be incredibly lonely if he’s searching out company from  _ him _ . 

“Night, Caleb.” 

Fjord closed the chest, placed it back in its secluded corner, and went back to his bunk for the night. 

-

It was the next day when Fjord tried to make good on what Caleb asked of him. He couldn’t say he trusted the odd man in the mirror, but he was curious about it himself. 

In between his above deck duties, he found Vandren with Berti, their navigator. Vandren towered above Berti, who was a short human that could pass as a tall Halfling if he tried. His hair was in tight ringlets closely cropped to his head, and his beard was non existent. His skin, like the rest of them, was thick and spotted from the sun. His glasses fit like two magnifying lenses perched on his bulbous nose, and he didn’t spare Fjord a glance as he approached. 

Berti was at the wheel, slightly adjusting their course as they went, with Vandren overlooking. In one hand, Berti held a compass. 

“We can keep going East,” Berti was saying as Fjord came within earshot. “But in a month’s time we’ll hit the Reef, and you know we can’t pull all this cargo through there.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Vandren said. “When Ronnie sees the first spire we’ll change course to avoid it.”

Berti nodded, even as he grumbled something under his breath, and adjusted the wheel again. From what Fjord knew about Berti, and it was very little, was that he was a worrywart even if he didn’t show it. He acted upset when they didn’t do things his way, but it was just because he wanted to do things the safest way as possible, even if it meant taking a longer course home. 

Vandren preferred a direct course and was much more concerned with paying their hired hands for three extra weeks than to worry about possible hazards. 

The Reef, as they had taken to calling it, was not actually a reef. It was an odd placement of sharp, jagged, rock spires that made the area shallow and dangerous for a ship of the  _ Tide’s Breath  _ size. In addition, pirates tended to hide among the rocks and ambush passing ships. It has become an area that every merchant ship will take a large arc around. 

With the course that Vandren preferred, it would make it possible that pirates could spot them. Of course, in the few years that Fjord has worked on the ship, they haven’t encountered anything like that yet. Vandren’s judgement has proven to be trusted. 

Vandren took notice of Fjord waiting patiently nearby. “Fjord.” 

“Captain.” Fjord nodded. “I was just reviewing our inventory and I got curious. Who are our buyers back at the Coast?”

Vandren scratched a hand absently in his beard. “Well, we got some fine linens and jewelry to be sent for the Chateau. Official letters and documents for some higher ups along the Coast…” 

“I meant for the one with the mirror,” Fjord interrupted. “I was, uh. Curious.” 

“So you said,” Vandren noted, and Fjord felt like he had been seen through. “That one has requested to remain confidential. Their order will be picked up by a subordinate.” 

“I see.” Fjord deflated just a bit under Vandren’s eyes. “Sorry for the interruption, Captain.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Vandren set a heavy hand on his shoulder, sent another look his way that was more piercing than friendly, and went off to fill out some other duties. 

A laughing scoff came from his right. 

“Slick, orc-man,” Berti said, eyes not leaving the bow. 

Fjord huffed and went back to work. 

-

“Your buyer is confidential.” 

It was later that night, and Caleb was propped up the same way as before, with Fjord sitting across from him. Frumpkin was nowhere to be found, and the existence of that magical cat still puzzles Fjord. 

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked, his voice becoming quieter as panic began to set in. 

“It means Vandren won’t tell me,” Fjord said. The earlier irritation from Berti’s comment had fixed his mood into a darker spot than it should be for this conversation, but it was nothing new. Comments like that were to be expected. “Your buyer might be someone with power down at the Coast who wanted to stay out of sight. I don’t know.” 

The panic had fully set in for Caleb and his hands gripped the edges of the mirror as if trying to pull himself through. “Where is the information kept?”

Fjord’s eyes narrowed. “Vandren has a journal.” 

“Where is this journal kept?”

“You know that’s confidential too, right?” 

Caleb scoffed and the base of his hand hit the mirror from the inside. It rattled, but the picture of Caleb remained in tact. “Then don’t tell me. But you need to go find that journal and see who it is.” 

Fjord gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“ _ Yes _ , Fjord,” Caleb said, exasperated. “I don’t think you understood when I said that  _ dangerous people are after me _ .” 

“How can you be sure your buyer is even those people?” Fjord asked. “Do they know that you’re trapped in there?”

“I don’t know!” Caleb said, his voice loud yet contained, like the mirror was restraining him. “That’s why I need to know!” 

“I can’t betray my Captain’s trust like that,” Fjord argued. 

“Then don’t get caught.” 

Fjord scoffed and stood up. “You know what? I’m sure you’ll figure it out in four months when we get to the Coast.” 

“Fjord,” Caleb warned. 

He approached the chest and looked down at Caleb within the mirror. Despite the fact that Caleb doesn’t resemble anyone on the ship, all Fjord saw was  _ human _ . “Obviously I can’t take orders from someone as high a superior as you, right? I think you can handle it.” 

“Fjord!” 

Fjord picked up the mirror and laid it back down in the chest. It rattled again as Caleb laid a heavy fist down on his side of the mirror. 

With a final look at the man in the mirror, Fjord saluted. “Good luck, Widogast.” 

“ _ Arschloch--! _ ”

He shut the chest even as it continued to rattle from the inside. Fjord shoved it back into the corner of the room, but took careful steps this time to strap down the chest so it wouldn’t be knocked over - or opened. 

Then he left the room for good. 

-

But as it turns out, Caleb wasn’t done with him. 

He had a few days of peace until the damn cat started showing up. 

On one morning, he was about to go downstairs when he looked at the base of the stairs and saw Frumpkin there, watching him. His eyes were still bright and piercing, telling of a lot more knowledge than a normal house cat. 

Fjord turned around and decided to do something else. 

The cat began popping up everywhere after that. Like an omen sent from the Raven Queen, it watched him at a distance, undoubtedly judging him for the mistreatment of his owner. 

He almost hoped the cat was just an illusion meant to torment him, but no. The cat was just as real to everyone else. 

He walked into the downstairs kitchen to see Bev and Tsui pouring over Frumpkin with pieces of fish and bread. The cat responded eagerly to the attention, mewing on command and graciously accepting any hand raised for pats. 

Bev was a stoutly woman, with bright red curly hair that was always pulled back with a handkerchief. She had dark skin and one of her eyes was glossed over and completely white, neatly divided by a thick scar. If anyone asked her about it, her story never stayed the same. 

“Fjord!” She called, gesturing him over. “Is this that cat Tsui was telling me you saw?” Her accent was like Vandren’s, but much thicker, and nearly incomprehensible at times. She cooed at Frumpkin, who mewed back.  _ Suck up.  _

“Yeah,” Fjord said, keeping his distance as he helped himself to lunch. “Keep it away from me, it’s caused me enough trouble already.”

“What, Sabien give you shit?” Bev asked, and Tsui nodded. Bev scoffed and shook her head. “If you tell that kid gold will spin out of his ear, he’ll believe ya. Dumb as a rock and as full of himself as the King.”

Fjord huffed a laugh at that one. He stuck an apple in his teeth as he dug through a barrel for the thickest pieces of jerky. He stuck what he collected into his bag, preparing for lookout duty with Ronnie. 

As he was tying up the sack, he felt he was being watched. Looking to the counter, Frumpkin has decided to join him by the barrel. He cocked his head at Fjord, watching him impassively, as if he really was just a normal cat. 

“I think he likes you, Fjord,” Tsui said, smiling behind her hand. 

Fjord grunted, taking the apple from his teeth as he took a bite. “Too bad I’m allergic. See you ladies later.”

He made a move to leave, but the gentle thudding behind him made his pause. Turning, he found Frumpkin behind him, now following him out the door. 

“Shoo.” He stuck his foot out, shaking it in an attempt to scare off the cat. 

“He wants to go look out with you,” Bev said, laughing. “I’m sure Ronnie will love him.”

“You all love cats for some reason,” Fjord replied. Frumpkin side-stepped his boot and stepped closer. “Stay here. Don’t you want more fish?” 

Tsui took a piece from the table that her and Bev sat at and lowered it to the ground. She made a clicking noise between her teeth. “Kitty-kitty…!” 

Frumpkin ignored her. Instead, he reeled back on his haunches, his eyes aiming up towards Fjord. 

“Oh, no you don’t.” Fjord took his boot and, as gently as he could muster, shoved the cat further in the room before darting through the door and shutting it. 

There was laughter on the other side and a long mewling, but Fjord huffed to himself and carried on down the hall. 

Ronnie was a tall half-elven woman with sharp eyes and a knack for observation. She kept a pendant close to her heart, one that Fjord knew as Ioun only because he saw a similar one in Vandren’s office. In fact, Vandren had multiple symbols of deities, some Fjord knew and others he didn’t. He’s asked about them on occasions, and Vandren would always explain one of them and the purpose they serve, but never if he truly believed in their faith. Fjord figured it wasn’t his business. 

Ronnie gave him a passive look as he climbed the lookout tower. She was a quiet person, mostly kept to herself, which meant her dislike of him was much quieter than others. As Fjord settled on the post, she silently extended her spyglass and scanned the horizon, even as Fjord could see that there was nothing but empty blue for miles. 

Which worked fine for him. If he didn’t have to listen or respond, he was pleased. 

He untied his sack and dug for a piece of jerky, chomping into it as he watched the horizon for any far away spots that were ship-shaped. He heard Ronnie’s spyglass collapse and felt her stare. 

She tsked. “Savage.”

Fjord cast her a sideways glance but tried to keep his chewing less noticeable. 

Suddenly, he felt a nudge against his leg and looked down. He couldn’t help a groan as he saw Frumpkin look up at him innocently, mewing softly. 

Before Fjord could stop him, Frumpkin leaned back on his haunches and jumped into his lap. Fjord raised both hands - one holding a half-eaten piece of jerky and the other his lunch sack - helpless to the nuzzling of the cat. 

He heard Ronnie gasp beside him. In a tone of voice he had never heard Ronnie use before, she cooed, “Ooh, how did you get up here…?”

She reached a hand over to Fjord’s lap and Frumpkin nudged against it, purring contentedly. His yellow eyes looked up at Fjord, as if smug. 

“You can take him,” Fjord said, allowing Ronnie to scoop the cat from his lap and begin cradling it. 

To his dismay, Frumpkin wiggled from Ronnie’s grasp and made a daring leap back to Fjord’s. He was about to start cussing out the damn cat who was making his nose clog up when Ronnie started  _ giggling.  _

“Aww, he likes you,” Ronnie cooed, for once looking at him with a soft, admiring grin instead of a glare. Sure, it wasn’t directly aimed at him, but it was better than how their interactions used to go. 

On a whim, he tucked the jerky back in the sack and used his free hand to pet along Frumpkin’s fur. It was softer than he expected, and he found he didn’t mind petting as long as the cat remained stationary in his lap. 

Frumpkin purred loud enough that it almost sounded like a growl. Ronnie cooed again, seemingly forgetting about their lookout duties. 

“How  _ cute _ .” Ronnie scratched under Frumpkin’s chin and he made a pleased sound. “What’s your name, little one?” 

“Frumpkin,” Fjord answered without thinking. Ronnie gave him a suprised, curious stare. Afraid he broke the charm, he hastily added, “I’d assume…” 

Instead of a scoff or a snide remark like he expected, Ronnie giggled again. 

“How fitting,” She said, watching Frumpkin sprawl across Fjord’s lap. “Frumpkin it is.”

Frumpkin chirped like he agreed. 

That’s how they finished their duties; half-watching the static blue sea in between petting or playing with Frumpkin. Ronnie took much more joy out of it, but Fjord was content with that. She unwound a loose string from her vest and dangled it for Frumpkin to paw at. The cat was very easy to please with any type of attention, but he was very specific where it was coming from. He had to make sure that Fjord was involved somehow, and Fjord couldn’t help but feel like Caleb was trying to punish him for locking him in the chest. 

And, yet. Ronnie smiled at him. She laughed with him. It was their first positive interaction since he was hired for Vandren’s ship. So even if this was Caleb’s odd way of revenge, it was working in a much different way. 

By the time the sun lowered in the sky and their duties were done for the night, they both looked down the long ladder back to the main deck and then at each other. 

“You have to carry him down,” Ronnie ordered. 

Fjord spluttered. “Why me?”

“He won’t let me pick him up.” Just to prove this, she knelt and scooped Frumpkin from the floor of the lookout tower. He struggled from her grip until she let him jump down. 

Fjord held out his hands and Frumpkin easily jumped into his arms. He held him at arm’s length, and Frumpkin watched him with wide, innocent eyes. 

Fjord looked down at the distance again. “He made it up here alone, I’m sure he can find a way down.” 

Ronnie scoffed, and she had that displeased look back on her face. Fjord sheepishly laughed, as if it was a joke. “Ah, fine.” 

He held Frumpkin to his chest, trying to plan out how he could climb down while holding the cat, when Frumpkin decided to crawl up and around his neck. His claws dug into the collar of Fjord’s tunic, secure. “That works, I suppose.” 

Carefully, so not to jostle the cat, Fjord climbed his way down the ladder. Ronnie, just above him, kept glancing down to make sure they were taking it slow and easy. 

Thankfully, they made it down without incident, but Frumpkin had decided Fjord’s shoulder was the place he wanted to be. Trying to move him resulted in claws digging in deeper, poking uncomfortably into Fjord’s skin. 

So he was stuck with a cat on his shoulders. Ronnie found it more hilariously adorable than he did, but he wasn’t going to start complaining now. 

Tsui was on deck talking with Vandren as they came down, and she laughed as they approached. 

“So he found you again,” Tsui noted, watching Frumpkin contentedly purr against Fjord’s neck. 

“So he did,” Fjord agreed, flat. 

Vandren eyed it with mild surprise. “So this was the one giving you trouble.” He reached a hand and scratched behind Frumpkin’s ear. “Might be nice to have him on board. I’m sure we picked up some rodents at our last stop he could hunt.” 

Frumpkin opened one eye to give Vandren a look that Fjord could only describe as unimpressed with the idea. 

“Or, maybe not,” Vandren said, also reading the one-eyed stare. “You’re a spoiled kitty aren't cha?” 

Frumpkin chirped as if to say yes, yes he is. 

“Captain,” Ronnie addressed, and Frumpkin perked up, opening his eyes to look around. “Is there anything else to be done on deck?”

Vandren hummed and shrugged. “No. Why don’t you all go downstairs, Bev cooked up some grub from the catch that was reeled in earlier. I gotta do some work and I’ll be down.” 

Tsui and Ronnie nodded in agreement and eagerly broke away towards the stairs. Fjord followed, but got as far as the top step when he felt Frumpkin stand on his shoulders and jump to the ground. Fjord watched as the cat darted back on the main deck, turned a corner, and disappeared. 

Cursing under his breath, Fjord turned and followed. 

Aside from the shape of Berti making late night adjustments on the far end, the main deck was empty. A sliver of light came from Vandren’s office, and remembering exactly what Caleb was after, he cursed again and approached. 

Peering through the crack, he spotted the end of an orange tail disappear behind Vandren’s desk. Their Captain was reviewing papers, shuffling and organizing them. Behind the desk, there was the line of carved symbols from other deities. Fjord took another moment to admire them. 

He recognized Ioun, or the Knowing Mistress, as Vandren called her. Beside that symbol was one depicting the Wildmother, and Fjord recalled seeing her temple at a distance back at the Coast. Other ones he recognized as the Raven Queen and the Moonweaver. He wasn’t all too knowledgeable in religion past the temples he visited in his youth, but those were the four that stuck out to him the most. 

There was another medallion depicting an open door arch with a pathway passing through it that Fjord didn’t recognize. The sixth and final medallion had a singular large eye in the center. 

He wondered what Vandren knew about those deities. They certainly weren’t as common as the other four, and Fjord was curious. 

He was startled from his thoughts as Vandren blew out the candle from within the room and began making his way out. His heart jumping in his throat, Fjord turned and skipped a few paces back, then pretended to be walking towards Vandren’s quarters as nonchalantly as he could. 

Vandren stepped out and looked at him with mild surprise. “Fjord. Did you eat?” 

“Not yet,” Fjord said, unable to help the nerves in his stomach. “Just needed to take a leak.” 

Vandren paused for a moment, and Fjord worried he saw through his bluff. But a moment later Vandren huffed a laugh. He pat a hand on Fjord’s shoulder. “Make it quick, or Tsui and Sabien will finish it all off.” 

“‘Course, Captain.” 

Vandren walked past him without another glance, and Fjord waited until he was out of sight to slip silently inside his quarters. 

It was dark, but Fjord’s darkvision made it easy enough to look for a vague cat shape. He hissed in a whisper, “ _ Frumpkin _ . What the fuck?” 

He met the unamused stare of the cat peeking from behind Vandren’s desk. 

“I know what you’re after, you little shit,” Fjord hissed. “And you won’t get it. Know why?”

Frumpkin came fully out from behind the desk and stared, his tail flicking in annoyance. 

Fjord pointed to the desk. “He keeps it locked, and the key is always on him. You need thumbs.” He bent his opposable thumbs to make a point. 

Frumpkin gave a low, irritated  _ mrrrow _ and accepted it when Fjord picked him up. He crawled back up around Fjord’s neck, and the biscuits he kneaded into Fjord’s shoulders felt more rough than usual, but it was tolerable in his minor victory. 

As Fjord existed the office and made sure the door was shut behind him, he ran into the short form of Berti. The navigator took one look at the cat on Fjord’s shoulders, smirked, and gave a gruff laugh before heading downstairs. 

Fjord let out a slow, relieved breath. Frumpkin nudged against his head, and Fjord absently lifted a hand to scratch him as he followed down the steps to the kitchen. 

The kitchen was nearly empty as he made his rounds, greeting Bev amiably as she washed up the dishes and let her coo at Frumpkin again. Almost without thinking, Fjord offered Frumpkin a piece of the bread he lathered on with soft cheese, and Frumpkin took it eagerly. At the table, Berti snickered. 

“Almost makes ya huggable, orc-man,” He said with a mouth half-full of food. 

Fjord didn’t reply, instead hummed something indecipherable as he shoved the rest of the bread in his mouth. Frumpkin cocked his head at Berti and watched the man until Fjord left the room. 

At this bunk, he let Frumpkin off on the floor before settling in bed. He looked at the cat watching him from the ground. 

“You’re not sleeping in my bed.” Fjord drew the line at that. 

Frumpkin chirped and, turning in a way that his tail flicked Fjord’s nose, scampered out of the room and out of sight. 

-

It became like a routine from then on. 

Every morning in the kitchen, Frumpkin would appear and soak up all the attention from everybody present before curling up around Fjord’s neck for the day. Everyone adored the newest addition to the crew. Bev started setting aside pieces of fish to feed Frumpkin and Ronnie would find time to play with the cat. And the cat made sure that Fjord was there for everything. 

In addition, the atmosphere around Fjord…changed. Like Ronnie, everyone else smiled more around him, treated him much more pleasantly as long as Frumpkin was draped across his shoulders. He was no longer the only half-orc on the crew; he was the only half-orc  _ with a cat _ . 

The only person who wasn’t impressed was Sabien. The first time he caught sight of Fjord with Frumpkin around his shoulders, he laughed until there were tears in his eyes. 

“Good  _ gods _ , I didn’t think you could look anymore pathetic,” Sabien laughed, tugging at Tsui’s arm. “You see this?” 

“I think it’s cute,” She tried to argue, shooting Sabien a narrow look. 

He only laughed again. “See?  _ Cute  _ and  _ pathetic _ . Try again next time, runt.” 

As he passed, Frumpkin gave a low warning growl and watched him leave. Fjord could feel the cat’s back hunch in alarm. He scratched at Frumpkin’s neck in what he hoped was reassuring. 

“Sorry about that,” Tsui said, genuinely sheepish. She had good intentions most of the time, but confronting Sabien did not fall into that category. 

Fjord shrugged, feeling Frumpkin’s claws digging in to keep balance, and noted not to do that again. “I’m used to it.” 

Tsui gave him a look that was hard to decipher - something pitying and hurt, something frustrated - but before either of them could say anything, there was a shout from above. 

Giving each other a look, they both darted off up the steps to the main deck. The rest of the crew was crowded up front, watching something in the distance. 

Fjord leaned to the side of the ship and saw a far away smear on the horizon. Even without a spyglass, he could tell it was another ship slowly approaching. Fjord guessed it would be early evening when their courses would cross. 

Vandren was at the front of the crowd, with Ronnie’s spyglass pressed against his eye. His jaw was hardset; his teeth grinded together. When he pulled the spyglass down, he collapsed it and tucked it in his pocket before spinning on his heel and pushing through the crowd. There was a look in his eyes that wasn’t feral, exactly, but a type of panic that Fjord had never seen on his mentor’s face. 

Frumpkin mewed in his ear. Without thinking, Fjord murmured, “Don’t worry. Vandren has a way with people. Caleb will be fine.” 

Frumpkin didn’t reply, but Fjord felt his tail flick against his ear. 

Ronnie kept a close eye on the ship as it approached, and Berti attempted to redirect their course - but the warning shot that made the water beside the  _ Tide’s Breath _ knock against the boat decided the encounter for them. Vandren ordered the twins downstairs to man the cannons, and the rest of them were to be visible on deck. 

The crew was prepared when the foreign ship arrived that evening. It was much larger than their merchant ship; their masts paled in comparison to the new arrival. In addition, the new ship’s crew was bulkier, heavier, with weapons strapped to their sides. Fjord tried to make himself smaller, less noticeable than the heavier members of their own crew. He knew, that among a crew of tan half-elves and humans, green stuck out. 

A board was tossed between their two ships, and it was then that Fjord got a good look at the name of the ship, scrawled in pleasant script along the side: the  _ Squall-Eater _ . 

Their ship shook and sank a few inches as a tall, bulking figure crossed the board and grinned smugly at them all. It was some sort of ogre, dressed in half-patched clothing with hair falling over her grossly yellow teeth. She laughed at them, slow and breathy as she scanned them all with unbiased amusement. 

“Tiny things,” She grunted. 

A smaller figure, a human woman, followed across the board on deck. She surveyed them all until her eyes finally landed on Vandren, who stepped forward. 

“Our Captain would like a word with you,” She said shortly, her voice laced with contempt. Fjord felt Frumpkin’s hackles raise. 

Vandren sighed. “I figured.” He looked to the rest of the crew, nodding to Tsui, who stepped up. “Keep things in check.” 

Tsui nodded. As first mate, she had a duty to fulfill when the Captain was unavailable. Like Fjord had seen before, she took on a different persona when taking the role as first mate; she appeared straighter, more confident in herself. 

Vandren followed the short woman across the board onto the  _ Squall-Eater _ . The ogre remained, eyeing them all with an ugly grin. 

“And you are?” Tsui suggested to the ogre. 

The ogre let out a breathy  _ heh-heh-heh _ \- no doubt sending foul-smelling breath all across Tsui’s face - and said in a grunt, “Bouldergut.” 

Tsui was unfazed. “Tsui, first mate. What brings your crew here?”

Bouldergut stared down at Tsui, and while their first mate was tall, she lacked height in comparison to an ogre. “To talk.” 

Knowing she wouldn’t get anything else out of this one, Tsui sighed. 

Fjord watched as Vandren was lead to the other ship. There was another tall elven woman on the other ship, with long curly red hair peeking from under an elaborate hat. She greeted Vandren amiably, as if greeting an old friend, and lead him to her private quarters. 

Frumpkin chirped in his ear. He was still tense across Fjord’s shoulders, his claws digging in a way that Fjord interpreted as anxiety. Fjord reached a hand up to scratch along Frumpkin’s neck. 

“This happens,” Fjord murmured. At this point, he had accepted that the cat could understand him - it wasn’t a normal cat by any means, afterall. And in a way, it felt nice to chat to something that didn’t respond like a humanoid. “We’ve made it out of situations like this before.” 

And as Bouldergut’s sunken eyes directed at Fjord, he tried to convince himself of that as well. 

Bouldergut raised a hand towards him, and Fjord was prepared to hear something demeaning, some sort of insult hurled at his physique. 

But what came out of the ogre’s mouth was this: a deep rumble of, “Kittyyy…!” 

Frumpkin tensed and let out a low warning growl directed at the ogre. Bouldergut, oblivious to the warning, took another heavy step forward with her arms outstretched, her fingers curling and extending like a toddler trying to reach for something. 

Fjord backed up until he hit the wall, inevitably trapped by the approaching ogre. Frumpkin let out an unpleasant hiss at Bouldergut, before launching from Fjord’s shoulders and darting between her legs. Bouldergut grunted in surprise, turning in a way that nearly rocked the ship, and they all watched as Frumpkin darted over the board between the two ships and disappeared. 

Bouldergut frowned and let out a sad groan. Fjord swore under his breath and pushed past her, rushing to the side of the boat to see if he could spot the stupid cat. 

The crew on the other side appeared unbothered, so either the cat disappeared into thin air or it managed to slip by them. 

_ Shit.  _ The mirror man might kill him if he lost his damn cat. 

That is, if he ever figured out how to get out. 

Ronnie came up beside him and startled Fjord by placing a hand on his shoulder, but her attention was on the far deck. 

“I didn’t see where he went,” Ronnie said, and Fjord took a moment to realize she meant Frumpkin. “I hope he’ll sneak back over.”

“Maybe this is how he gets around.”

That earned him a snort and a laugh. “Seems like it.”

“You think Vandren’s okay?” Because that’s what took precedence over a random magical cat. 

Ronnie took her hand back and instead fiddled with Ioun’s pendant. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”

Which wasn’t reassuring but was truthful. And accurate. It was only a little while later that Vandren was escorted back over the board, and the woman from before - that Fjord could guess as the  _ Squall-Eater’s _ first mate - making sure that everything above was sorted before calling Bouldergut back over. 

And just like that, without plundering of any kind, the board was retracted and the  _ Squall-Eater  _ went on its way. 

It was one of their luckier moments. They had certainly lost a lot to pirates in the past, but to not even have a threat thrown their way or anyone scouting their storage was rare. It made Fjord wonder if they were even looking for valuables. 

Vandren seemed in a short mood when he came back on board. As soon as the other ship left, he locked himself in his Quarters and only allowed Tsui to come and go. 

Frumpkin did not come back on board. The others were visibly distressed by this. 

“I put aside all this fish for him and he chooses a different ship,” Bev pouted, collecting the scraps Frumpkin left behind this morning from the kitchen table. 

Ronnie twisted the loose thread she used to toy with Frumpkin between her fingers. “Maybe he snuck back on. He managed to sneak up to the lookout tower once.”

“If he’d come back for anyone, it’d be Fjord,” Tsui said, shooting him a glance. 

Ronnie snorted. “Such a cute cat has such poor tastes.” 

Tsui and Bev shared a glance but casually went about their business as if the statement was never said. Ronnie caught Fjord’s eye and raised an eyebrow as if asking to challenge her. 

With a huff, he turned and left instead. 

Even if the cat had seemed to settle the tension between them, it would never change the opinion of everyone on board; that a half-orc doesn’t belong in this crew. 

He was halfway back to his bunk when he caught a flash of orange. Knowing Frumpkin’s ability to appear and disappear, he huffed again and followed. 

Frumpkin was waiting outside the door of the storage room, tail flicking behind him. He did not approach Fjord, but instead let out a needy  _ mrrooow _ . 

“I’m not opening the door for you,” Fjord said. “You seem capable to appear places just fine.” Of course, he knew that wasn’t why Frumpkin was there. 

Frumpkin watched him and let out another long meow. 

Fjord shook his head. “Nope.” 

He continued on down the hallway but didn’t get very far until Frumpkin was winding himself between his legs, threatening to trip him up. Letting out a frustrated groan, he pushed the cat away with his foot. 

“What does he want?” Fjord finally asked. 

Frumpkin’s tail flicked and he sauntered back to the storage room door, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure Fjord followed. After another scoff at the idea of a cat besting him, he did. 

The moment Fjord swung the door open, Frumpkin made a run for the chest, still strapped down like Fjord left it all so long ago. Except now, there was a curl of guilt in his chest. Maybe he had been too harsh to a man who has clearly been through a lot. 

He slid the straps out of place and, after a brief moment of hesitation, threw open the lid of the chest. 

The image of Caleb became clear just as Fjord straightened the mirror and sat across from it. There was still only the one crack across the surface, which meant Caleb’s banging from the other side wasn’t strong enough to effect the glass - or maybe the mirror can only be harmed from Fjord’s side. He shook the idea away; magic was not his forte. 

To his surprise, Caleb broke the silence first. 

“I am sorry,” He said, and Fjord blinked, confused. “I realize now that I asked too much of you. I am a stranger, a man in a mirror; you have every reason not to trust me.” 

Frumpkin jumped into the chest and nudged against the mirror, as if trying to comfort his owner. Caleb pressed a hand to the glass and smiled, sadly. 

Fjord cleared his throat, getting the man’s attention. “I’ll apologize, too. I may have been harsh to trap you in the dark when you’re already stuck there. I was…not in the best of moods that day.” 

Caleb nodded knowingly. “It is understandable, with how they talk to you.” 

Fjord blinked, again. “How do you know what they say?”

Caleb looked confused for a moment, before realization dawned and he  _ oh’ _ d. “Right, right. Frumpkin is my familiar. I can see through his eyes and hear what he hears. He is his own cat of course, he just does my bidding.” 

Fjord felt his cheeks color at all the times he allowed Frumpkin in his lap, across his shoulders, and wondered if Caleb was looking through the cat’s eyes all of the time. 

“I do have to say,” Caleb continued, oblivious to the embarrassment rolling off of Fjord. “Your chef is Bev, correct? I don’t have to eat while trapped in here, but it was amazing to taste fish again after so long.” Caleb leaned on his hand as if daydreaming about it. 

“That…is certainly good,” Fjord said, awkwardly clearing his throat. “So, uh. We’re good?”

Caleb blinked, cracked a smile. “Oh,  _ ja _ . But that’s not what I had Frumpkin bring you here for.” 

Fjord raised an eyebrow and pulled his knees up to his chest, scooching closer to the mirror. “What, then?”

Caleb glanced at the door, safely locked, and back at Fjord. “I was looking through Frumpkin’s eyes when he snuck onto that ship the other day. He followed where your Captain had gone, and we heard some things I thought you should hear.” 

Fjord’s eyebrows pinched together. “I’m sure Vandren might have paid the other Captain to leave us be, if that’s what you mean.” 

Caleb shook his head, and Fjord’s stomach tightened. “It is something much different.” 

Fjord nodded for him to go on. Caleb did. 

Through Frumpkin’s eyes, he had slinked past the other crew and found his way to the Captain’s private quarters. According to Caleb, he had been watching since the ship was first discovered on the horizon, and he used Bouldergut’s brash approach as an excuse to duck and run. Two of the Captain’s crew was keeping guard on her private quarters, so Frumpkin found a way to listen just above a balcony discovered along the side of the ship. 

Vandren and the Captain sat across each other at a desk. Caleb never learned anything about the Captain of the  _ Squall-Eater _ , all besides that she knew Vandren. Most of the conversation was difficult to hear alongside the roaring of the sea, but Caleb did learn this: the Captain was urging Vandren to rejoin her crew. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Fjord argued. “Vandren was never a pirate.” 

“I don’t think these were ordinary pirates,” Caleb said, quietly. 

Caleb went on to say that Vandren refused any of the Captain’s offers for power - power which had to be acquired, Caleb gathered, but did not understand how. 

Then something had happened; Caleb couldn’t see from the balcony overhang without being seen himself, but he heard Vandren demanding the Captain where she ‘found that cursed eye’. That ‘she had damned herself and her crew’ and ‘will never be satisfied with the power given to her’. 

Caleb suspected Vandren had been involved in some sort of ancient demon summoning. 

Fjord opened his mouth to object, but suddenly remembered the medallion with the large eye carved on it hung above Vandren’s desk. He swallowed his tongue. 

“Vandren still refused,” Caleb said. “The Captain eventually got upset and made him leave. Promised him that she can do ‘it’ without him.”

“What’s ‘it’?” Fjord asked, mostly to himself. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Caleb said. “I’m sorry to spring this on you. But I felt you should know. Maybe ask around.” 

“You think Vandren would hide something that dangerous from his crew?” Fjord asked, the protectiveness of his Captain rearing its head. 

“I don’t know anything,” Caleb agreed. “I am merely making suggestions. You know him better than I do.” 

“Right,” Fjord said, his defensiveness settling down for the meantime. After a pause, he added, “I could ask around.” Even if the conversation wasn’t anything to worry about, it would be natural for Fjord to check up on his Captain after nearly being attacked by pirates. 

“It is up to you.” Caleb’s fingers anxiously twisted a pendant around his neck, seemingly debating to say something. “I know you are not comfortable doing what I asked you before. And I won’t ask you again. But, can you allow Frumpkin to stay above deck with you again?” There was something vulnerable in his voice as he asked, stunted and awkward, like he knew this was a strange request. “I have been trapped in this mirror for a long time. It is as if I am free again when looking through his eyes.” Another pause. “And company with you is nice, too.” 

Fjord fought not to blush at the last part. Instead, he said, “Sure. Frumpkin can stay as part of the crew.” Who was he to deprive the man of these needs anyway? He must be suffering to watch the outside world move along without him. “And I can come visit. Maybe some of the other crew could come too, if you want better company.” 

Caleb shook his head, fear in his eyes. “No, no one else, please. It is hard enough to trust you with all this information.” 

Ah, right. Of course it would be hard to trust someone looking like himself. Fjord coughed into his hand and stood up. “Right. Well, thanks for telling me all this. I have some duties above deck until I’m done for the night.” 

Caleb seemed to deflate, but nodded anyway. He snapped his fingers and Frumpkin appeared on Fjord’s shoulders, nearly startling him. Fjord gave the cat a scratch under the chin before going to pack the mirror back up. 

“Wait!” Caleb said before Fjord could set him back down. “Is there anyway to just…put me out of sight?” 

Even looking through Frumpkin’s eyes, it seems the dark was still too much. Fjord thought for a moment, then acted. 

He replaced the neighboring crates to form an invisible space from the wall, hiding the chest from view and would give them a more private space to converse. He still placed the straps around the open chest, but left the mirror propped up and with a view of the private corner. 

“Thank you,” Caleb murmured, admiring it. 

“I’ll be back later,” Fjord promised, and with Frumpkin curling his tail against the base of Fjord’s throat, he was gone. 

-

The rest of the crew was ecstatic that Frumpkin had come back after all. Fjord’s relationship with the cat was less strained, but still different. Now knowing that Caleb was looking through Frumpkin’s eyes most of the time, he kept himself more modest in Frumpkin’s presence, but did his best to feed Frumpkin bits of fruit or meat when he had the chance. The cat was almost constantly around his shoulders most of the time anyway, so it was a simple task. 

The others treated him better again, but he didn’t let himself get his hopes up. When the cat was gone, their relationship would revert right back to where it started. He didn’t let himself think it would change, or to enjoy it while it lasted. 

A new addition was that Frumpkin took to sleeping beside Fjord in his bunk. It started one day where Frumpkin disappeared while Fjord was manning the sails - the amount of climbing might have put him off, Fjord reasoned at the time - and found an orange ball in his bunk when the time came to settle down for the night. Frumpkin chirped sleepily at him, and Fjord wondered if Caleb was capable of sleeping since becoming trapped. That made the decision for him; Frumpkin would stay. It was a knot in his side when he slept, but after a few nights, he got used to it. 

He often snuck away to talk to Caleb after lights went out, when he was sure no one would walk into the storage room for any reason. Caleb usually had stories to tell of the few times he was away from Fjord as Frumpkin, like seeing Berti nearly tear a map with his quill while drawing out their path, or his personal favorite, witnessing Tsui ratting out Sabien for trying to pour salt into her mug of ale. 

During these evenings, he supplied himself with jerky and ale, and lit a candle for Caleb to see in the dark. He often fed bits of jerky to Frumpkin, but Caleb refused to allow the cat to drink ale. 

“Isn’t he magic?” Fjord defended at the time. “I’m sure he’ll survive.” 

“I’m sure he can, too,” Caleb agreed. “But it’s the  _ principle _ of it, Fjord. You don’t give a child ale.” 

“If that cat was a child, he wouldn’t be sleeping on my bed,” Fjord argued, taking a sip of his ale. When he looked up, he couldn’t help thinking the color on Caleb’s cheeks at that statement complimented the man’s bright eyes. 

“Well,” Caleb spluttered, red in the face. “You could argue that that’s for my needs. Frumpkin doesn’t exactly need sleep, either.” 

The cat in question cocked his head at Caleb and blinked slowly. 

Now Fjord’s face was colored, but he hoped that the change in green tones wasn’t as obvious. He resorted to sarcasm. “So, a man trapped in a mirror uses his cat to sleep in another man’s bed? Sounds reasonable.” 

Caleb blinked, and for a moment, Fjord thought he was too direct; then he cracked a smile and laughed, and Fjord ignored the way the sound danced on his nerves.

“Perfectly reasonable,” Caleb said, quieter. 

Fjord kept a private smile to himself, hidden behind his mug of ale.

So, things were good between the sailor and the mirror man. 

Fjord did as Caleb suggested and found opportunities to ask, vaguely, about Vandren’s past. He managed to corner Tsui first, Vandren’s first mate and longest member of the team next to Berti and Bev, in between their duties up on deck.

“So, Tsui,” Fjord said, appearing to act natural. “Do you know what the deal was back when those pirates almost pillaged us?”

Tsui, tightening a knot for one of the sails, shrugged. “Vandren said they were looking for a specific ship and got the wrong one.” She tied off the knot and clapped her hands together. “I feel bad for whatever sucker got themselves on the bad end of those guys, though.” 

Fjord nodded, made some comment about the ogre, and stalked off, disappointed. 

Tsui had been his best bet, but now he had to walk into the den and ask the Captain himself. 

He picked a day where Vandren appeared in the best mood. On days when mugs of ale were passed around on a quiet, easy day on the sea was the best kind of days. With two mugs in hand, Fjord made his way to Vandren’s Quarters. 

The Captain’s door was shut when Fjord approached and he knocked with a knuckle, hand wrapped around one of the mugs. There was some shuffling on the other side until the steady beat of footsteps approached the door. With the shifting of a lock, Vandren swung the door open. 

“Ale for the evening, Captain?” Fjord offered. 

“Ah.” Vandren took the mug and tipped it back, downing a quarter before humming, pleased. “Much obliged. Please, come take a seat.” 

Fjord graciously accepted the seat at the desk while Vandren leaned back in against the bed, downing another quarter of the mug. Fjord, watching, tried to do the same and coughed after the second mouthful. 

“Heard that cat has taken a shine to you,” Vandren noted. “Wonder where such a thing came from.” 

Fjord looked down into his mug. “Wish I knew.” 

Vandren watched him for another long moment that spurred Fjord on to take another long drink. Whatever the Captain had been thinking, was gone by the time he swallowed. 

“I’m a bit concerned, though,” Vandren continued. “Fjord, a cat can’t solve the problems your race created.” 

Fjord stiffened. He hid his face behind his mug and asked, “What--What do you mean?”

“The cat is a bandaid,” Vandren explained. “It softens what you truly are in the face of everyone else. When that cat is removed, the reality sets back in.” Vandren chugged the last of his mug, as Fjord forgot he had one in his own hands. “And what you truly are is a being that’s not really orc and not really man. If you want people to respect you, you have to have power.” 

Vandren looked deep into his mug for a long moment, before sluggishly rising from the edge of the bed. Fjord was frozen in place, the words dancing in his head, struggling to understand what Vandren is trying to say. 

The Captain reached over the desk and picked up the medallion with the carved eye. He held it out to Fjord. 

“This represents a being that’s not really a god but not really a creature. But people respect it all the same, because it has power. And it gives that gift to its followers who truly deserve it.” He pressed the medallion into Fjord’s palm, eye side up. “You deserve that, Fjord.” 

Fjord looked down at the medallion, the metal cold and heavy in his hand. “You….really think so?”

Vandren settled back on the edge of the bed, eyes on the back of the room. “I do, I do…” 

Fjord glanced over his shoulder to follow the Captain’s gaze. The only spot in the room that stuck out was a bookshelf, loaded with journals that Vandren has kept and collected over the years. In one corner, however, was a safe that Fjord had seen every time he stepped into the office, but had never known the contents. 

Vandren shook his head at some thought, and wiped a hand over his eyes. He gave Fjord a half-grin. “It is probably time to hit the hay.” 

Fjord silently agreed. Gripping the medallion, he headed to the door, Vandren close behind. 

“Goodnight, Captain,” Fjord said, stepping out in the hallway. 

“‘Night, Fjord,” Vandren said, paused. Spoke, “I believe you can do things I never could do myself.” 

Stunned, Fjord stood there until Vandren shut the door. 

-

“What is that?” 

Caleb eyed the medallion in Fjord’s hand as they sat down for their nightly routine. Fjord turned it in his hand, sighing to himself, before holding up the symbol. 

Caleb was silent for a moment. Then, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah.” Fjord turned it back in his hand and examined the wide eye staring back. “Vandren gave it to me. Said a whole lot of things about power. That I deserved it.” He sighed, leaning his head back as it hit the wall behind him. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you think it is a good thing?”

Fjord shrugged. “It  _ sounded  _ good, but, ugh. Don’t these things have a catch to them?”

“ _ Ja _ , probably.” Caleb knocked against the glass to mark his point. Fjord snorted. 

“I don’t know,” Fjord repeated. “It just feels like there’s a lot he didn’t say, you know?”

Caleb was quiet for a long moment, long enough that Fjord looked back down at him. Caleb was tapping a finger against his lips, debating something. 

“I knew someone like that once,” He said, quietly. “Didn’t turn out so well.” 

“Any piece of advice you could offer?” Fjord asked, a half-joke that fell flat. 

Caleb hummed. “My true advice?” 

Fjord nodded. 

“Go far away as soon as you can.” 

-

Despite Vandren’s advice, Fjord kept Frumpkin around. The cat was pleasant company on most days when his allergies didn’t act up as bad. And besides, he couldn’t leave Caleb alone in the dark all day. 

_ (Gods help him, he was getting attached. _ )

Frumpkin was half-asleep on his shoulders when the crew got together for a meal downstairs. Bev really outdid herself with a diverse stew, made of the dried veggies and meat that were stowed on their journey. It was a tastier meal than usual that Fjord savoured, occasionally holding up bits of meat for Frumpkin to chew on. 

To his dismay, Ronnie sat beside him at the table, trying to feed Frumpkin from her bowl of stew as well. Frumpkin happily enjoyed whatever was placed in front of his mouth, and Ronnie made a delighted noise every time Frumpkin accepted what she gave him. 

Like before, the tension between them disappeared while Frumpkin was draped on him. The elf twins, Sora and Soren, who are usually off by themselves somewhere, even put aside their differences tonight to coo at the cat. 

“So tiny,” Sora said. 

“So cute,” Soren added. 

The two had their long black hair braided the same way, and despite being of opposite genders, were identical in every form of the word. 

Fjord thought he heard some similar stories of twins back in Tal’Dorei. 

“He’s become part of the crew,” Ronnie agreed. She placed a tender hand on Fjord’s bicep, cocking her head and giving him a sweet smile. “Fjord, you simply must not give him up.” 

The moment Ronnie’s hand settled on his arm, Fjord felt Frumpkin tense behind his head. His claws dug into the collar of his tunic in a way that he does when he feels agitated. In addition, he felt the cat’s tail flick his ear. 

“Of course I won’t,” He promised, scratching behind Frumpkin’s ear in hopes to calm him down. 

“Good.” Ronnie took her hand away after a beat, and Frumpkin settled back down. 

Fjord believed he was over whatever that moment was, when Ronnie tried to feed him a bit of meat and Frumpkin looked away. Ronnie pouted. 

“Maybe he’s not hungry,” Fjord suggested, knowing that was not the case. 

The twins snicker, in a way that said they knew, too, and Ronnie shot them a curious look. 

“Mr. Frumpkin is jealous of you, Miss Ronnie,” Sora giggled. 

“Kitty-cat’s outta the bag!” Soren laughed. 

Ronnie’s expression fell into a hard glare as the twins scampered off, snickering, to escape her wrath. Fjord avoided her gaze when she turned to him next. She scoffed and focused on her soup. 

As Fjord washed the bowl, he thought he escaped enough activities for the evening to slip away quietly and silently. He had a couple questions for Caleb, ones that most certainly did not involve what happened earlier, as the idea of it made color rush to his cheeks. 

He was prepared to slip out of the room when Sabien handed him a stack of bowls. 

“Clean these too, why don’t you?” Sabien said, giving a toothy grin. 

Fjord silently took the stack of bowls and went back to the sink, cursing Sabien out in his mind. As he did so, Frumpkin jumped from his shoulders and, when Fjord turned to look, was scavenging under the tables for leftover scrap. Fjord huffed a laugh, hoping that that was Frumpkin’s decision and not Caleb’s. 

He was just setting aside the last bowl when a screeching yowl erupted in the room, making Fjord’s hair shoot up on their ends. Spinning around, he saw that Sabien had found Frumpkin under the tables, and held him high up by the scruff on his neck. Frumpkin had his teeth bared and struggled in the hold. 

“Little weasel’s trying to find some scraps,” Sabien teased, waving his fingers in front of Frumpkin, but far enough so the cat can’t reach when he bats at them. “What? Runt doesn’t feed you enough?”

Fjord’s irritation had reached its peak. He shook the water off his hands and approached Sabien. “Leave the damn cat alone.” 

Sabien raised an eyebrow at him, bursting out a laugh. “You gonna do something about it, runt?” 

Sabien held the cat higher and Frumpkin let out another yowl, struggling to twist far enough and scratch at Sabien’s hand. Sabien made a motion to step closer to Fjord, when another large hand on his chest stopped him. 

“Let the cat go, or someone is going overboard,” Tsui threatened, in a voice never used on another crew mate. 

Sabien looked as equally as shocked as everyone else. Tsui was not the confrontational type, except apparently when cats are threatened. As Sabien looked around and realized everyone else was just as pissed off about his treatment of Frumpkin, his bravado slumped. 

“Fine, take your fuckin’ cat.” He tossed Frumpkin away like a piece of scrap, who landed on his feet and turned to hiss at Sabien. 

Fjord knelt to allow Frumpkin back onto his shoulders, but was surprised again when he felt something cold splash across his front. The sharp scent of ale hit his nose as he looked down at his soaked tunic and breeches. 

As if his soaked clothes weren’t enough, he felt the mug connect with his chest. Looking up, he found no amusement on Sabien’s face - just pure hate. 

“Ugly ass ogre and his fuckin’ rodent,” Sabien muttered as he left the room. 

The room was silent as Frumpkin crawled back up around Fjord’s shoulders, curled protectively close to him. The cat was on high alert; even as Bev made a motion to help Fjord stand up, Frumpkin hissed at her. 

When Fjord finally stood and made to leave the room, he found Vandren already standing in the doorway, watching with an impassive look and his arms crossed. Fjord stared for a moment; then brushed past him, knocking their shoulders. 

When he got back to his bunk that he shared with Soren, he slammed the door shut. Frumpkin jumped from his shoulders and onto the bed, his tail flicking as Fjord paced the room. 

He was  _ frustrated _ . Unbelievably upset. So much so, he couldn’t do anything but stand with his arms pinned together, his fingers digging into his skin that he was sure left bruises. He couldn’t even put it into words. 

Frumpkin chirped. Fjord sighed. 

“Give me a second,” He whispered, unsure if Frumpkin, or Caleb, could hear it. 

He steadied his breathing until he was mostly calm again. Then, silently, he stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, quickly followed by his breeches. Behind him, he didn’t notice Frumpkin, or Caleb, watching closely. 

Once Fjord was dressed, he allowed Frumpkin back on his shoulders, who only hesitated a second before doing so, curling his claws delicately into the new shirt. Again, he was curled protectively around Fjord’s throat, keeping a careful watch of anyone who approaches. 

Before Fjord went to the storage room, he picked up a bottle of wine and a handful of jerky, taking note that the supply was growing thin. It wasn’t a big worry; the Coast was just a couple weeks away at this point. 

He uncapped the wine as he walked into the storage room, taking a long drink as Frumpkin jumped down and slipped behind the crates to their hiding place. Settling down into his usual spot, rested against the wall and facing the mirror, he gave Caleb a flat stare. 

“I am sorry,” Caleb blurted before Fjord could say anything. “If I hadn’t-- If Frumpkin didn’t--” 

Frumpkin chirped, cutting him off as if to say,  _ it wasn’t me _ . 

“It’s fine, Widogast,” Fjord said, low, as the alcohol finally began to set in and he could start to feel numb to the entire evening. “He’s always a dick like that.” 

Caleb was quiet for a moment. Then, “If I wasn’t there, it wouldn’t have been that bad.” 

“He would’ve found another excuse.” Fjord waved the sentiment away. “It’s probably better that your cat was there, though. Everyone jumped to defend the cat.” There was bitterness there, a vile taste on the back of his tongue, and he swallowed more wine. 

Caleb was quiet again, assessing the damage and the situation. Frumpkin still appeared frazzled. His fur was still messed up from the violent grab, and his ears were pricked as if listening for anyone to approach. Fjord reached a hand over and smoothed down the fur, petting delicately down Frumpkin’s spine, who curled into the touch, making a pleased chirp. 

“I do still apologize, anyhow,” Caleb eventually said, quiet. “I….did not realize things were quite so bad here.” 

“Usually they’re medium bad,” Fjord said, his tongue starting to feel thick in his mouth. “Today was major bad. Really bad. But not as bad as it could’ve been, I suppose.” Sabien could’ve thrown a punch. Probably would’ve, too, if Tsui hadn’t stopped him. Fjord took another drink. 

“They’re really bad,” Caleb corrected, his voice lower than Fjord is used to, more dangerous. “If I wasn’t stuck in this damn mirror, I could’ve helped.” 

Fjord straightened, not understanding why this was upsetting Caleb so much. “It’s really okay, Caleb. Vandren says I need to be stronger, so I’ll work on it. Don’t worry about it.” 

Caleb blinked at him. “Stronger?” He slowly shook his head. “You don’t need to change to demand people respect you.” 

Fjord huffed a sour laugh. “How would I demand _ anything _ if I’m just--” He gestured to himself. “--Some sort of runt?” 

Caleb didn’t say anything right away, so he drank. It was at that moment that he realized there was half the bottle left. 

As Fjord contemplated the bottle and the room around him began to spin, Caleb spoke. 

“But you already did,” Caleb said, Fjord’s eyes flicking up to meet his. “I foolishly assumed you would do as I asked simply because you were available. But you were rightfully offended and told me so. You demanded my respect.” 

Fjord narrowed his eyes at him as he struggled to comprehend it. Logically, it sounded right, but  _ he  _ did that? It felt like he should be missing something. 

“Fjord,” Caleb tried again. “Is there anyone on this ship who listens to you?”

Fjord shrugged. 

“What about Ronnie?”

Fjord snorted. “What about her?”

“You two seem close.” There was something delicate to the statement that caused Fjord to examine the man in the mirror. Caleb didn’t look back; his fingers fiddled with his sleeve. 

“Ronnie cares about me as much as Sabien cares about cats,” Fjord said, and watched Caleb physically recoil at the mention of Sabien. “Which is to say, none at all.” 

“Oh.” Caleb’s shoulders relaxed, and that was interesting. “I had just thought….” 

Fjord thought back to Frumpkin, and Ronnie, and the twins. A slow smile curled on his lips that he hid behind the lip of the bottle. 

“No,” Fjord confirmed, and watched the remaining tension ease out of Caleb. “I would say the only person here who would care about me is Vandren.” But even that was doubtful, when he found that Vandren watched the entire confrontation earlier and did not step in. Shaking away the residual frustration, he changed the subject. “You said you knew someone like him?”

Caleb let out a long sigh. “ _ Ja _ . But someone far worse than him, I assure you.” When Fjord didn’t respond, he continued. “He was like a second father to me, and to a couple others. He was someone we all wanted to be one day. But he had ulterior motives, and….” There was something there that was difficult to get out, something that caused a lump in his throat. Caleb’s eyes were wide and stared off to some far off distance, fearful of  _ something _ . 

Then he cleared this throat and continued. “To make a long story short, I did something for him that I really shouldn’t have. I ended up hurting people I loved. And I can’t take it back. So.” He shrugged. “I’m just running and hoping none of those people catch up to me.” 

Fjord didn’t want to pry into the parts that were clearly glazed over - it wasn’t his place, and the gods know he has things he doesn’t want to tell - but he felt that a slice of history is owed. “I am sorry to hear that.” 

Caleb didn’t reply. He rested his chin on his locked fingers, a little beaten down from the reveal, even if Fjord knew it wasn’t the whole truth. The whole truth might be much worse, Fjord realized, at the same time he knew that he didn’t care. 

“You said this man was a second father to you,” Fjord noted, and Caleb nodded. “Vandren is the only man I know who has treated me like I’m worth something. No one had really taken that chance with me before. I was a kid in an orphanage on the coast of Tal’Dorei, until I started taking odd jobs on the docks and watching the ships come and go. I always wished I could leave that place and go see somewhere else. And then Vandren took me on--” Which, looking back, had to have been a risk taking on a tiny half-orc teenager who would accept any job if it meant eating that night. “--and I’ve been here ever since. It hasn’t been the best, but it was better than not having anywhere to go.” 

Caleb opened his mouth to say something, but looked around the frame of his prison and closed it again. Frumpkin nudged Fjord’s knee and chirped, as if trying to say what Caleb can’t. 

_ Stay with us _ .

Fjord thought about the man that hurt Caleb, who was apparently not that far off from Vandren himself - thought about the medallion that was now hidden underneath Fjord’s pillow. He especially thought about seeing Vandren in the doorway, expression clear and blank, Fjord unable to comprehend it as anything but disappointment. The anger that Vandren did nothing, that Tsui did nothing, that no one did ever did anything for him. 

The voice in the back of his head that said he doesn’t deserve favors from anyone. 

Clearing his throat, Fjord said, “I’ll do it.” 

Caleb snapped his head up. “What?”

“I’ll find out who’s buying the mirror.”

-

It was surprisingly easy to sneak into Vandren’s office after dark. 

Although he slept in there, Vandren often stayed late to draw maps with Berti. The two were the nightowls of the ship, who were usually the ones to get to bed last. That meant that Fjord had a window of opportunity. 

With Frumpkin around his shoulders, he waited until the top deck cleared out and Vandren had joined Berti at the drawing room. Left in the dark, Fjord slipped through his Captain’s door. 

It was just as he was used to, just without the light. He looked to Frumpkin. 

“You are my excuse if we get caught,” He said. 

Frumpkin chirped to agree. 

The cat leapt from his shoulders to stand on the desk and watch. Fjord tried the drawer where he knew Vandren kept his log. It caught on the lock. 

“Look for a key,” He whispered. 

Frumpkin chirped and silently began sniffing around the desk, to the glass jar of keys that work for all the chests downstairs. Fjord looked in the other drawers when his attention caught back on the other symbols that still hung above the desk. 

He scowled. Fishing the medallion in his pocket, he placed the large carved eye back where it belonged. 

Frumped mewled. Fjord found him sitting on the shelf, beside the safe. Underneath his paw was a ring of keys. 

“Bingo,” He whispered, scratching Frumpkin’s head as a reward. 

His eye caught the safe again. Remembered Vandren staring at it like it held all his secrets. Curiosity getting the better of him, he gave the handle a tug. 

It caught, of course. The safe was locked with a combination. Even if he wanted to find out what was inside, they did not have time to find a scrawled combo somewhere in the office. 

Fjord sorted through the keys until he found one that fit the desk drawer. Frumpkin watched from the desk as Fjord found the log, opened it, and flipped through it. 

“Yussah Errenis,” Fjord said, once he found the description of the mirror. 

Frumpkin, who had been perked up waiting to hear the answer, deflated. 

“Do you recognize the name?”

Frumpkin chirped sadly, which Fjord took as a no. 

“That would just mean it isn’t those people that are after you, right?”

The cat chirped again, but then his head snapped to the door. His ears pricked; he lowered onto his haunches. 

“Frumpkin?” Fjord whispered, eyeing the door. He strained his ears, but couldn’t hear anything to note. 

The cat leapt to the floor and stalked out of the office, keeping low to the ground. Confused, Fjord replaced the log, shut the drawer, and left the keys on the shelf before following. 

Frumpkin crept from the top deck to the stairs by the time Fjord caught up to him. He followed from a distance as Frumpkin worked his way through the hallways until coming upon the cannon bay. 

The door was cracked open and Fjord could hear someone inside. Frumpkin looked to him in alarm. 

Fjord took another step closer to peer through the crack. From that angle, he could see someone’s shadow tending to the cannons. The shift of what Fjord assumed to be powder could be heard as it was poured into something. 

The twins were the powder monkeys, but there was only one shadow present. The only other person Fjord could think of was Berti, who had mentored the twins, but Vandren’s absence only meant that Berti was still occupied. 

He nudged the door open a few more inches to see further into the room. The creak it made was thankfully muted from the constant shifting of the person inside; whatever they were doing, it was in a hurry. 

Fjord caught the edge of a boot, the back of a tunic. There was a clicking sound, and it took Fjord too long to realize that it was flint. The figure moved, and ran a hand through blonde hair. 

Residual anger at their last confrontation, and the inane desire to prove himself, Fjord kicked in the door and stormed in the room. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing, Sabien?” Fjord asked, knowing there was no good reason to be lighting an explosive in the middle of the night. 

When Sabien turned around, there was an odd look to him; his eyes were narrowed, and for a person who was particularly colorful in his speech and expressions, he was strangely calm, reassured in what he was doing. 

Below him, there was a keg of black powder big enough to sink the ship, with a fuse that was growing shorter every second. 

“I’m doing what needs to be done.” To punctuate his statement, Sabien reached to his side and produced a throwing knife. Fjord ducked to the side, feeling the knife narrowly slice his ear before sticking into the wall. 

“Sabien--” 

Before Fjord could say anything else, Sabien was upon him. Another knife in his fist, Fjord had to duck from the next attack as he swung the knife down. Pain erupted as Sabien barely missed his eye, and blood came pouring down the side of Fjord’s face. 

There was a sharp yowl, and Sabien was suddenly being attacked by a blur of orange. Frumpkin leapt from the nearby work table and clawed viciously at Sabien’s face and neck, biting wherever the cat could reach. 

Fjord took the opportunity to kick at Sabien’s hand, sending the knife skidding across the floor until it disappeared beneath a cannon. 

Sabien got a grip on the cat and flung it somewhere across the room. Fjord heard a painful  _ thud  _ as the cat landed, but he couldn’t waste a moment to find Frumpkin as Sabien attacked again. 

This time, Fjord couldn’t dodge in time. Sabien’s fist connected to his jaw, his vision going dark as he tumbled to the ground, stunned. He could taste blood, but it didn’t connect in his mind at the moment; pinwheels exploded behind his eyelids. 

As the room struggled to reorient itself, Fjord saw Sabien stalk back towards the keg. It was still working its way to the bottom - at most they would have a few minutes to abandon ship now. 

Frumpkin came back, looking scruffed up but pissed off. He hissed at Sabien and leaned on his haunches, preparing to strike a second time. 

Fjord heard Sabien laugh. Just as Frumpkin went to leap, Sabien’s foot kicked out with the force of a goliath. Instead of going flying as Fjord expected, he watched in shock at the cat poofed out of existence - and he wasn’t sure if that was the mild concussion or not. 

He sat up, groggily; the blood was surely pooling below him by now, and he was certain his tusk had pierced his upper lip, now. He spit a mess of blood and tooth somewhere on the floor and looked up at Sabien with a snarl. 

Sabien’s face was an impassive mask, unfazed. “You lived as a freak, now you’ll die as one. Just like the rest of them.” 

Before Fjord could parse any meaning from that phrase, he felt a kick connect with his side. He gasped, collapsing back on the floor as a second followed, and a third. 

He was sure a rib was broken by the time Sabien decided he had enough. He spit a glob at Fjord, landing somewhere on the mess that was his bloody and beaten face. Then Sabien finally left the room with the keg tossed over his shoulder, the fuse growing ever shorter.

Fjord did not have much time. Wheezing, he worked himself up to his knees and had to pause as a wave of pain came over him. He pressed his forehead into his arm, his back to the ceiling, until the moment passed and he could move again. 

He managed to get to his feet when he crawled to the table, slowly climbing his way up until his knees wobbled. Holding the wall, with the other arm held protectively across his chest, he hurried. 

He was limping, and breathing felt like a challenge, but he found his way to the storage room. The moment he stepped in front of the mirror, Caleb appeared. 

“Fjord!” He said, pressing his hands to the glass, alarmed. “Fjord, what is happening? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Fjord grunted. He heft the mirror under one arm, grinding his teeth at the pain it caused his ribs, and continued. “We have to get off.” 

“Is Sabien blowing up the ship?”

“There’s storage unit that contains nothing but black powder,” Fjord said, climbing the stairs to the top deck two at a time. “That’s my best guess where he put the fuse. We don’t have a lot of time before it blows.” 

The top deck was empty. His next guess was that Sabien used one of their tenders, the smaller boats hooked on the side of the ship, to escape before the blast. 

He thought of people like this who didn’t try to escape the blast, who put themselves at the heart of it to get the best possible damage. The idea of Sabien doing that made a shiver run through his body. 

Fjord rushed to the side of the ship and caught sight of a distant boat, with a hooded figure paddling away. He cupped his hand to his mouth to shout something--

“Fjord?” 

He looked towards the sound. Vandren, and behind him Berti, were heading back to their private quarters. Vandren watched him quizzically. 

Fjord stepped closer. “Vandren, Sabien lit a fuse and the ship is gonna blow any second--” 

The ground underneath Fjord threw him over the side as the explosion rocked the ship. He lost sight of Vandren; the mirror slipped from his grasp; there was an unimaginable heat that burned his skin; a rumble that blew his ears; then the cold silence of the sea as it enveloped him. 

He sank. He tried to breathe, and tasted salt. Kicking, he breached the surface and looked around. 

The ship was already half-sunk in the water. He couldn’t tell the difference between debris and bodies. Fabulous chests and crates of expensive clothing and jewelry were already gone beneath the waves. 

Fjord’s heart leapt in his throat as he realized the mirror was gone -  _ Caleb  _ was gone. He couldn’t see the ornately carved frame anywhere above the sea. Taking a deep breath that pulled at his ribs, he dived down. 

He kicked, and kicked. Saw a necklace float by, then a few gold coins. He was suddenly reminded that they were passing the Diver’s Grave; how fitting. 

A shiny reflection caught his eye. Paddling towards it, he could have sobbed in relief at the sight of the mirror, reflecting the moon’s beam from above. There was another spiderweb crack across the surface, but that was hardly an issue now.

As Fjord reached for the mirror, Caleb watched him in fear. 

“Don’t!” And his voice was tinny, muffled, under the sea. “Leave me! Save yourself!” 

Fjord couldn’t speak his argument, but swam further forward instead. He was only a foot away when Caleb waved his arms in warning. 

“ _ Look out! _ ” 

Fjord looked up and found a piece of debris falling down towards him. He tried to dodge in time, but the dull edge knocked his side as it sunk, causing his ribs to shift and pain to course through him. He let out a cry, bubbles rising to the surface, and he inhaled without thinking. His ribs contracted; he was stuck in a cycle of breathe, choke, breathe, as his ribs burned in pain. His hands lifted to his throat and he caught Caleb’s wide, fearful eyes as they both sank. 

Caleb was pounding on the glass desperately. He was saying something, but the edges of Fjord’s vision were darkening, and he wished he understood why sailors always say that drowning is the best way to die. It hurt too much to be considered peaceful.

There was a bright light, another force without the heat of an explosion, that knocked Fjord back. He tumbled in the water, eventually coming to rest with his back to the surface, the moon’s faint beam starting to fade as he closed his eyes. 

Then hands gripped his face, ones buzzing with an unfamiliar arcane energy, and he opened his eyes to see Caleb but not; to see a Caleb with eyes burning brightly, with an intensity that Fjord did not understand. 

Then he pressed their mouths pressed together, and Fjord knew now that he must be dying if he was hallucinating Caleb kissing him. He didn’t even have the strength to do it right. But air was pushed past his lips, and his mind became more clear, and it really  _ was  _ Caleb holding him. 

Caleb’s hands moved in the water, the surrounding cold momentarily becoming warm as a spell was cast, and Caleb held Fjord close, and the next thing Fjord knew was that they were launching upwards, towards the sky, towards air, and his ribs were killing and his skin was burning and his lungs felt clogged, but he was safe, and Fjord graciously tipped over the edge into darkness. 

-

He was woken up forcefully when something pounding on his aching ribs would not leave him alone. He let out a pained groan, but it was short-lived as he felt water rising in the back of his throat. 

Turning on his side, he vomited whatever salt water remained in his lungs and stomach out onto the sand, coughing even as it jostled his ribcage, even as his throat burned from the salt. 

A steady hand rubbed reassuring circles on his back as Fjord came back to himself, waterlogged and beaten, but himself. 

He looked beside him to find the equally waterlogged Caleb, who watched him with a mix of relief and fascination. The hand on his back came to comb the hair that had fallen in Fjord’s face back behind his ears. 

“How do you feel?” Caleb asked. 

Fjord coughed, ignoring the sting. “Better, now.” He couldn’t help taking the hand that began twirling his soaked and stiff lock of hair and feeling the palm with his own fingers. “You freed yourself.” 

“I had your help.” Smiling, he pressed a kiss to the back of Fjord’s hand, and that must taste bad with the salt and sand stuck to it. 

“Come.” Caleb stood and held a hand out to help Fjord. “We are not far from Port Damali. I’m sure we can find a cleric that will heal you up.” 

Fjord took the offered hand and kept it, even as he found he could stand steadily enough on his own. He cast another glance towards the sea - the remaining fear for his crewmates, his Captain, and the long wonder of what Sabien had been planning - but the hand in his own, and the idea of finally being in control of who he was, kept him following Caleb into the city. 

He took a step and something bumped his foot. Looking down, he caught the gleam of metal poking out from the sand. He knelt down and gripped it, pulling it loose. 

It was a sword, some sort of falchion, with intricate carvings of the ocean scrawled on the handle. 

“Was that with the ship’s cargo?” Caleb asked. 

“Possibly.” Fjord let it hand in his free hand, the other gripping Caleb’s. Fjord met his eyes, the strong blue steady and reassuring to a man waking up in a new world. 

Together, they ventured forth. 

**Author's Note:**

> unused ideas:  
> \- sirens attack the ship at the Reef  
> \- Vandren becomes a bit more of a dick  
> \- frumpkin was initially going to be way less involved
> 
> kinda like this AU. might roll with it?


End file.
